


I Think You're My Best Friends

by vivelarepublique



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bearded Grantaire, M/M, OT3, is that a thing?, well here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 15:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivelarepublique/pseuds/vivelarepublique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic for <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/phileas/">Phileas</a> for the Les Mis Holidays Valentine's Exchange!</p><p>Prompt being an AU where Enjolras and Combeferre are in a relationship and run into Grantaire after not seeing him for years. Grantaire now has a beard, which does it for Enjolras, and an incredible knowledge of insects, which does it for Combeferre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think You're My Best Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phileas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phileas/gifts).



> The title is a play off of a line from Fall Out Boy's "The Kids Aren't Alright."
> 
> Infinite thanks to [Emily](http://grantairely.tumblr.com/) for help, edits, comments, and being generally amazing.

Enjolras had come home many a time to find Combeferre pouring over a book. Once, he had even seen him flipping through the Oxford English Dictionary, absorbed in the “Q” section. On this particular evening however, Enjolras came home to find Combeferre flipping through a tome with a lot more pictures than usual.

“Hello,” Enjolras said, placing a kiss on the top of Combeferre’s head. He lingered there, brow furrowing when he saw what Combeferre was examining. “Are those old photos of us?” He set his bag down on the floor and settled next to Combeferre on the couch.

Combeferre gave an affirmative hum as he turned the page, which was filled with photos from Courfeyrac’s first and only finals week party. “Remember this?”

Enjolras groaned. “How could I forget? Courfeyrac thought our last finals week should be memorable...” 

“You can’t deny that it was,” Combeferre smirked, his hand finding Enjolras’ and deftly interlacing their fingers.

Enjolras felt his face flush. “The last thing I wanted to do was...”

“Confess your undying love?” Combeferre provided.

“I was going to say blurt out my feelings for you in a round of _truth or dare,_ of all things, but yes, that.”

“Courfeyrac was so proud.”

“I should have lied.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Combeferre pulled Enjolras closer to him to press a kiss to his lips.

Enjolras sighed, but couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.” As Combeferre continued to flip through pages, he was settling his head into the crook of Combeferre’s shoulder. It was then that a Polaroid picture of himself caught his eye. 

He had been photographed in the beginnings of a smile, his hand in Combeferre’s. According to the date scrawled on the photo, it would have been just after they had officially gotten together. “What is that photo from?”

“What, Grantaire’s photo of you?”

“Us, but yes, that,” Enjolras reached forward to grab it. Sure enough, a capital “R” was written on the back of the photo in the same black Sharpie that the date was. 

“It was from Joly and Bossuet’s pre-pre graduation party at the Musain. I’d recognize that wallpaper pattern anywhere.”

“Oh yeah, I’d almost forgotten about that.”

“I always thought you two had a thing going on, you know.”

“Wait, who? Me and Grantaire?”

“Do you remember how many times I would wait for you downstairs at the Musain while you were busy finishing some ‘argument’ or another with him, hours after the meeting had ended?” 

Enjolras lifted his head to better raise his eyebrows at Combeferre. “That’s just because we couldn’t be in the same room for more than thirty seconds without ending up at each other’s throats.”

“Which to many onlookers, looked like an incredibly large amount of unresolved sexual tension.”

“Did you just use the phrase ‘UST’ in conversation?”

Combeferre shrugged. “That’s what it was. And plus, he took photographs of you like this.”

“He was a good photographer!”

“Yes, but he was also so in love with you.”

“What? No way. And I mean, I totally thought...” Enjolras trailed off.

“Thought what?”

“That _you_ liked him.”

Combeferre laughed. “He was certainly attractive, yes. And he’s man of many talents, even if he would admit that just about as soon as he would admit that he liked you.” Enjolras gave him a small smack in the arm, but Combeferre continued, face pensive. “It was nice to find someone who appreciated exotic insects as much as I do. I miss him and our conversations.”

“So you did like him, then.”

“Perhaps I did. _But_ I also was pretty smitten with someone else at the time.”

“Oh were you?” Enjolras said, unable to keep the grin out of his voice.

Combeferre nodded as Enjolras gingerly moved the album to the coffee table, to better pull him in for a kiss.

*

The following Saturday found Enjolras and Combeferre out on a walk, their destination being Shakespeare & Company, one of Combeferre’s favorite bookstores. But today, the path they took was a scenic one. 

"Is this the way we normally go to get there?" Enjolras asked, as they turned down another tree-lined boulevard.

“I thought we could take a stroll toward the Musain," Combeferre said with a smile, "for old time's sake."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at him. “We haven’t been there, in...it must be almost seven or eight years.”

Combeferre nodded. “Looking at the photos the other day got me thinking, and it’s not too much out of the way.”

The longer they walked, the more Enjolras felt like they were going back in time. “It’s funny how little it’s changed,” Enjolras noted. 

"It's been years, not decades," Combeferre smirked, squeezing Enjolras' hand nonetheless. 

"Combeferre? Enjolras?" A voice called from in front of them.

Enjolras and Combeferre came to a halt in front of none other than Grantaire. He had aged, certainly, as had all their friends, but his hair was still perpetually wild and his eyes still a striking shade of blue. Said eyes were wide open, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. 

The most striking change however was his,

"Beard," Enjolras said, his eyes wide. 

"What was that?" Grantaire blinked. 

Enjolras grew red and Combeferre gave him a curious expression. "You...have a beard."

Grantaire put a hand to his chin and gave it a scratch. "It would appear so. Nice to see you again, too."

Enjolras' mouth opened and closed a few times, but luckily, Combeferre broke the awkwardness by giving Grantaire a huge hug. "Oh, wow, it’s so nice to see you again, Grantaire.”

“Yeah, dude, it’s been...” Grantaire trailed off.

“Too long,” Combeferre finished. 

“Far too long,” Enjolras added, regaining his composure enough to give Grantaire a quicker, but no less warm, hug. “What have you been up to?"

Grantaire gave an apathetic shrug, and the action took Enjolras back: no matter how many years had passed, some little gestures never changed. “Not much. Just been taking odd jobs here and there around the city.”

“Yeah? What are you doing now?” Combeferre replied.

Grantaire paused, scratching his beard in contemplation, a movement Enjolras tried his best not to stare at. “Well, at the moment I have a temporary position at the Natural History Museum.” His eyes brightened and his hand gestures grew bigger as he spoke.”They have some awesome insects, the lepidoptera section especially. The birdwings are pretty amazing, but we have some super cool moths on display right now.”

Combeferre then made a noise that could best be described as a squeak. Sensing his cue, Enjolras now swooped in to the rescue. “Combeferre is a huge fan of...bugs.” Combeferre shot him a look. “Insects? Moths? Butterflies?” He could never tell the difference himself, no matter how much Combeferre explained it.

Combeferre gave a cough before speaking again, cheeks slightly pink, “I really enjoy the Natural History Museum’s collection of lepidoptera. It’s one of my favorite spots in the city.”

Grantaire gave a good natured laugh. “I seem to remember that being true in college, too.” The way his eyes sparkled at Combeferre made Enjolras’ heart swell unexpectedly, but not unpleasantly. “What about you Enjolras? Still playing Superman and trying to save the world?”

Enjolras couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Some things really didn’t change. “If by ‘save the world,’ you mean try to work with the local government to create more progressive policies, then yes, I am.”

Grantaire laughed again. “Yup, that sounds about right.” Before Enjolras could say anything else, Grantaire glanced down at his watched. “Oh, damn. Actually, I’m on my way to work now, but maybe I’ll see you guys around again sometime?” 

And with a wave from Grantaire and a few parting greetings from Enjolras and Grantaire, Grantaire strode off down the boulevard. It was then that Enjolras and Combeferre finally turned to each other, their eyes wide.

“Did you-” Combeferre stuttered.

“His beard-” Enjolras interjected.

“His eyes-”

“His _hair-”_

“His passion for the order lepidoptera,” Combeferre said, a bit breathless.

Enjolras paused a moment. “Would it be weird for us to ask him out for coffee?”

“For what? A date?”

There was another brief pause.

“I mean...” Enjolras trailed off.

Combeferre looped his arm in Enjolras’ as they began to walk back to their apartment. “I think we need to go check our master calendar.”

Enjolras smiled at him, his cheeks still flushed. “I think that’s a very good place to start.”

*

“I forgot there was a brief period you wore contacts,” Grantaire said, hovering his finger over a photo in the album on his lap. Combeferre gave a sigh from his spot next to him on the couch. 

On the other side of Grantaire, Enjolras gave a laugh, “Yeah, that was a very brief period.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow quizzically at Combeferre.

“I ‘read too much,’” he said in air quotes, eyes rolling, “So, my eye strain increased. Exponentially.” 

Grantaire laughed, and Enjolras’ hand flew to the photo album on his lap to keep it from falling. “Well, if it helps, I think you look attractive with glasses.”

“See?” Enjolras said, peeking at Combeferre from the other side of Grantaire. “That’s two to one, glasses win.” And as if reading his mind, Grantaire bent in to give Combeferre a kiss on the nose.

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile, especially when Grantaire turned to him to give him a kiss in turn. The album was soon moved to the side as the three of them found kissing to be an increasingly distracting activity. 

*

The next morning, Enjolras awoke to find Combeferre still lounging in bed, reading an article closely on his phone, and Grantaire already up. But judging by the smell of coffee wafting through the hallway, he must have decided to get a head start on the day.

Enjolras rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Combeferre, and padded into the kitchen, where he found Grantaire nursing a mug of coffee, photo album spread out in front of him on the counter.

“Morning,” Enjolras yawned, causing Grantaire to blink up at him before giving a yawn himself. Neither of them were morning people.

“Morning,” he returned, before taking a long sip from his mug.

“What’re you up to?” Enjolras asked, as he sat down on the stool next to him. Upon closer inspection, the counter was covered in photos, but not photos from the album, but new photos: iPhone photos, Snapchat screenshots, a few Polaroids, and prints from the computer, all of Enjolras, Combeferre, and Grantaire in some combination or another.

“Well, I noticed your guys’ album hadn’t been updated in a while, so I found some photos I had lying around...”

“You had this many photos of us?”

Grantaire flushed. “I...take a lot of photos.”

“No, it’s not bad! I love these.” Enjolras picked up one, a Snapchat that Combeferre had sent when Grantaire had attempted to teach Enjolras how to cook one night. The smoke was only slightly visible.

There was then a creaking of the bedroom door and Combeferre appeared in the kitchen, eyes still slightly glazed with sleep behind slightly askew glasses.

“G’morning,” he yawned loudly, as he went to stand between the two of them, giving each a kiss. He blinked a moment at the photos before saying, “Do I need to get the scrapbooking stuff?”

Grantaire blushed and scratched at his curls, making his bedhead messier. “Well, uh, first I guess you guys can tell me which ones I should add.”

“We can add them together,” Enjolras smiled, Combeferre already grabbing his box of art supplies.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of us who are not well-versed in biology (like myself) the order lepidoptera contains butterflies, moths, and all those lovely winged creatures. I extrapolated that Paris' Natural History Museum would have birdwings, but as I have never been there, I could very well have made that up.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at [vivelarepublique](http://vivelarepublique.tumblr.com)!


End file.
